Hey everyone. Capone in Chicago here. I’m in the midst of looking over the hundreds of films I saw in 2006 and compiling a list of the must-see movies of 2006. Sometimes this is a list of 30 films, sometimes 40; last year I made it to 50. I promise not to go any higher than that this time around. But the question I get asked more than any in the month of December is: What is your favorite movie of the year? Usually I can nail down my top five without too much trouble, but 2006 was a strange and wonderful year. When I tell people that no one film stands out above the rest, they tend to interpret this to mean the year was mediocre. Not true. This was a great year for quality releases. So while I probably could name the 10 best films of 2006, right now I'm struggling to rank them. Keeping all this in mind, I have very little doubt that Children of Men will fall among the 10 best films I saw this year. And, depending on the day of the week, I may even make it my top choice. Children of Men is a harrowing look at our world's possible future, a fictional account that seems so completely within the realm of possibility, it may leave people with lingering anxiety after they see it. Technically, the film is science fiction, but writer-director Alfonso Cuarón (Y Tu Mamá También; Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) has eliminated every trace of conventional sci-fi trappings and delivered us into a world where woman can no longer get pregnant. Cuarón's vision of the future is, in fact, regression. A world in which women no longer have babies is one where anarchy is creeping into the status quo. Nobody seems to know (at least not among common folk) why fertility has become a thing of the past, but the world is beginning to realize the condition is permanent and the end of the world as we know it is in sight. Children of Men is set in a London of 2027 in which foreigners are rounded up and sent to ghettos because they are believed to be inciting destructive thoughts among the locals. Terrorist attacks against government targets are commonplace. Things have gotten so bad and people so hopeless that serene — almost seductive — commercials for a self-induced suicide drug run on television with an alarming regularity. Clive Owen plays Theodore, a former political activist who once had a relationship and beautiful child with Julian (Julianne Moore). The child died, the marriage dissolved and Theodore has been drifting ever since. One of his only friends is Jasper (the stellar and highly excitable Michael Caine), who smokes pot and philosophizes about the state of the world and how it got there. I could have spent two hours just listening to Caine talk. He's extraordinary here, and between this film and The Prestige, he's had a hell of a year. Theodore is approached by Julian to fight once again for a good cause and help sneak a woman through tight security to deliver her to something called The Human Project, a sort of utopia for those fighting against the government's nasty human rights violations. It turns out that the young woman in question is extremely pregnant, and her very existence shatters about two decades worth of hopelessness. Obviously, if her child is born alive, scientists may have a shot at saving humankind, but this situation creates as many problems as it solves. Internal squabbling about what should be done with pregnant woman begins almost as soon as people see her for the first time. Content to believe that his ex-wife has sound judgment, Theodore risks life and limb traveling through war zones in an effort to deliver mother and child to The Human Project's base on the coast of England. Cuarón carefully crafts each scene to evoke the maximum amount of fear, rage, paranoia and hopelessness, and, for better or worse, he hits the mark every time. What you may not even realize at first is that much of the film is told in long tracking shots with some of the most intricately choreographed action sequences ever executed. One sequence in which his jeep is attacked — shortly after Owen first meets the pregnant woman — is shot entirely from inside the vehicle with the camera simply spinning around in the back seat to capture all the action inside and outside the car. That scene alone is worth seeing Children of Men twice. All of the performances are appropriately desperate, but Clive Owen, in his portrayal of a man who has nothing to live for except his and the planet's eventual death, occupies this role so completely that you feel you should put him on suicide watch. Moore is cool and distant, as many rebels would be after years of witnessing and sometimes planning murders. Also on hand are Chiwetel Ejiofor as one of Moore's fellow rebels, and Peter Mullan in an absolutely insane third-act appearance as a military leader at one of the prison camps. He is bribed to help Theodore but turns on him once he realizes what he's hiding from the world. One of the final sequences is set during a fiery and chaotic battle sequences that looks like it was shot in the heart of war-torn Bosnia. Bullets, grenades and shells are hitting and exploding all around. The entire final battle sequence might be my favorite scene in any movie this year, not for the blood and death on display, but for the emotional payoff. I don't think it's any coincidence that three of the finest films of 2006 (this one, next week's Pan's Labyrinth and Babel) were made by three Mexican directors (Cuarón, Guillermo del Toro and Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu) who all happen to be great friends. Clearly this triad set out to make the best films of their careers this year, and they challenged each other by sharing their works in progress during their respective productions. Children of Men feels like a great mystery. You never know where the plot will take you; the fate of the characters is completely unpredictable; and regardless of what happens or who lives or dies, the questions the film considers are timeless and universal. Never has a film about the possible end of the world seemed so relevant, honest and necessary. Children of Men is required viewing. Capone capone@aintitcoolmail.com
